


Gentle Touch

by Sonamae



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Discrimination, Dom/sub, Fluff, M/M, PNP, Past Trauma Mention, Plug in Play, Tactile Sexual Interfacing, Tags to be added, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonamae/pseuds/Sonamae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whirl and Rung are in a Dom/Sub relationship and it works surprisingly well for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Lovely work for certifiedvalvecharger over on tumblr. Expect several heavy chapters.

The secret to Rung and Whirl’s relationship was that what they’d started it _long_ before anyone even knew they were together. The two of them had spent millennia developing a bond behind closed doors and out of the sight of prying optics, each learning the other in private, so bots were always startled by how well they knew one another. They never talked about their relationship at first, but occasionally they’d bring it up and show the other off.

A long time ago they met before Whirl’s ‘punishment,’ before his empurata in fact, and Rung felt no shame in admitting he’d fallen in love at first sight. Sure, the two had met in a kinksters club and went right for one another, but that didn’t stop them from feeling a spark of romance. Whirl had been so nervous back then, hands twitchy and gentle as he admitted that he’d never _really_ done this before. Rung had tried not to sigh lovingly as he’d taken both of Whirl’s hands and guided him step by step through their scene.

They’d shared the night tighter, their play pushing them both and leaving them trembling, and after they had finished they’d gotten a room and spent the remaining hours simply holding hands and talking as they lay sprawled out on the recharge slab. Rung had waxed poetic about technique and passion, while Whirl gushed over the art and emotion of their play, about how after everything and every word, he’d genuinely loved the visible release of anguish from his partner’s frame. He loved the tender execution and then the sweetness of the aftercare, and he loved knowing he’d done something worthy and helpful for his partner.

Whirl would remember that kiss for the rest of his life, and not just because it had been his last. Rung had pressed close to him and kissed him with every bit of adoration he could muster, and he’d clung to Whirl’s shoulders when he’d been kissed back.

They parted ways soon after and exchanged private frequencies, but neither were able to call the other for a very long time. War broke out and Rung’s office was bursting at the seems, and Whirl… well, everyone knew his story. People he didn’t even _know_ knew about him, so he cut himself off and reframed his life just to feel like he had a sense of privacy. Being infamous for something thrust upon you was one thing, but being infamous for everything that had been ripped away? He would admit to having lost it for a while there.

They fell out of contact for years because of it. Whirl simply let his comm list slip, and after a while he just forgot.

The next time they spoke it was completely by accident. Whirl had been drunk and homesick, recently having ‘enlisted’ in the Wreckers and stuck with a heavy hole in his spark. He’d pulled up a list of comm contacts long since forgotten and sent a ping to the first one that wasn’t blurry. There was a hazy conversation had between two mechs, and for the very spark of him, Whirl couldn’t remember it. He remembered how warm and alive he felt when talking to this faceless figure though, the sense of recognition on both ends, but not a word spoken between either of them every crossed his processor.

Whirl had fallen asleep with his end of the comm line open, and when he awoke the other mech had thankfully hung up and spared themselves the sound of a buzzing half snore from Whirl’s vents. Life in this body wasn’t normal, and he still had nights where he would wake up wishing he could feel the proper amount of terror allotted to him. But still, he knew that if he did feel the right amount of terror he’d offline himself, and that kept him awake even longer.

Certain aspects of his self, his personality and feelings, certain things had to be removed or shut off because of the empurata. Some things were simply reduced, others warped and twisted into fractions of their formers selves. Whirl hated himself in the beginning, but now… well, he still hated himself, but at least with this he could survive. He was a monster compared to what he used to be, but at least he wasn’t going to hide from it.

Three cycles before he was due to ship out, there came a gentle knock on his habsuite door. Confused and slightly exenterated, he answered it expecting a fight or an early deployment. Some call to the front to be canon fodder or a heavy in the war.

Instead, he came face to face with a bot he hadn’t seen in _far_ too long. His plating instantly seized, then it flattened against his protoform. He was two seconds away from slamming the door key shut when the other bot _smiled_ at him.

“Hello Whirl, it’s so good to see you.” Rung’s voice was just as warm and as gentle as it had been the last time they’d talked. Whirl’s spark stuttered as the shorter bot looked around. “May I come in, or would you like to go out somewhere? Maybe we can get dinner and catch up?” Whirl’s vents churned and the joints in his knees threatened to buckle.

How long had it been since someone had spoken to him like a normal bot and not some freak of nature? How long had he felt the genuine affection of another mecha’s EM field brush gently against his own in an open invitation.

If he had the proper optics for it, he’d have cried.

“Rung…” Whirl flinched at the altered sound of his voice, the way it echoed through the speaker with a twang instead of a hum. He had so many things he wanted to ask, but hearing his own voice was jarring enough.

“Oh, it sounds like your audio box is loose, I can fix that for you if you need me to. I know it’s hard for any mecha to get the proper tools up to their throat.” Rungs voice was still as sweet and as genuine as ever. Whirl wanted him to continue with ‘Especially for a busted bot with claws like yours’ just so he could get the other ped to drop, but Rung never did.

Instead, Whirl stepped aside and let the other Mecha in, directing him to the berth where they could sit together.

That was how their relationship had started. Soothing talks, minor tune ups, and gross amounts of affection and treating Whirl like he was a real Cybertronian and not some Frankenbolt Monster. Rung kept him sane and loved him, and Whirl couldn’t help but love him back. Maybe there was something twisted about their relationship, but if there was he sure couldn’t see it. All Whirl could see was the bursts of affection and love he felt for his partner.

That was enough for him.


	2. Lunch

They’d been seeing one another for a little over five months when the first _big_ thing in their relationship happened.  Had it not been for a stranger sticking their nose into Whirl’s business, it wouldn’t have become a _thing_ between them.  Something so innocent had turned into a breakthrough between the two of them, and it all started with a little bit of _goading_.  
  
 Whirl had just finished sipping his lunch in the break room when a short mech came up to him with a lopsided grin. “Whirl right?  Where do you keep _going_ on your days off?” the mecha asked, and Whirl barely gave them a second glance.  He was just some expendable, some bot to stand in for another Wrecker that Whirl would watch die within a cycle if he read the mecha right.  
  
 This wasn’t even an abnormal question for him, it was actually pretty common place.  He mostly just ignored them all until they left him alone though.  Only Kup deserved the right to really know where he went, and Kup never _asked_.  Hell, Kup didn’t even _care_ , he just wanted to know all his mechs were safe when they left and safe when they came home.  
  
 Whirl went back to recalibrating his latest gun to fit the alignment of his claws.  The other mecha didn’t take that well.  
  
 “Are you _listening_ to me at all you one opticed freak?” the bot snapped his fingers a few times in front of Whirl’s optic.  
  
 Whirl sighed and counted backwards from ten.  Rung would be upset if he shot someone’s face off, it would mean they’d miss their date because he was being court marshaled.  He just needed to count backwards from _ten_.  
  
 “Hey, I _know_ you can hear me, your antenna keep twitching.  Where do you _go_?” the mecha shuffled around Whirl’s side so he was standing in front of him, blocking him off from the rest of the crew.  Whirl dragged in an intake and flickered his optics shut, then set down his gun on the table beside him.  
  
 “I visit my conjux.” Whirl said as slowly as he could. “Like any sane Cybertronian with a conjux would _do_.” He stared the mecha down until they looked away out of sheer discomfort and scoffed at him.  
  
 The mecha trembled. “ _You_ , _sane_?  That’s a tripped breaker,” the mecha grumbled as he crossed his arms, “and you don’t have to _lie_ about having a partner.  If you don’t want to tell us you’re seeing a buymech-”  
  
 “Excuse you?” Whirl clacked his claws since he couldn’t glare properly, “did you really just imply that my conjux endura is a _buymech_ , and did you just so happen to imply that _in front_ of me where I just so happen to have a _loaded gun_ within reach?”  
  
 Across the room, Kup glanced up from his news datapad, then rolled his optics before he looked back at the screen.  
  
 “No!  Don’t put words in my mouth.” The mecha quickly took a step back and stumbled, around him the other mecha began to snicker.  
  
 “I’ll stop putting words in your mouth when the scrap that comes out of it resembles actual words and not turbo fox slag.” Whirl grumbled as he snatched up his gun and stomped closer to Kup.  He flopped onto a nearby bench and worked the side panel back open.  Kup looked over and smiled briefly.  
  
 “Picking fights?” Kup asked playfully under the hum of his vents.  Whirl looked across the room at the flustered mecha and remembered what it felt like to smirk.  
  
 “No, but I’m finishing them.” He muttered back before the gun buzzed happily in his claws.  That felt good, having a weapon react to him in a positive light rather than the exploding one.  
  
 The flustered mecha was huddling close to another two, each of them whispering heatedly at one another and casting an occasional glance back at Whirl.  Beside him, Kup began to chuckle as he flipped to a different screen on his datapad.  Whirl ignored them, he didn’t have time for their stupid petty lives and their stupid petty-  
  
 “Hey Whirl!” Oh here we _go_.  He looked up and shrugged at them to go on, it was one of the smaller bots from the trio. “If you’ve got a conjux, how come we never see you call him?” There was a gentle wave of sass in their body language as they waved their hand in the air. “Surely a bot as flashy as you would have their conjux at their beck and call, right?” Whirl tried not to groan.  
  
 “Yes, and?”  
  
 “Why don’t you holo-call him right now and prove to us that you’ve even got one.” They said, helm held high.  
  
 “Hey, Kup, what time is it?” Whirl asked, making a show of looking back at his gun.  
  
 Kup huffed and checked his chronometer with a blink. “About noon, give or take a couple kliks.” He muttered before going back to his datapad.  
  
 “About noon, you hear that bit-bot?” Whirl finally subspaced his gun. “What are normal, working bots doing at noon?” he waited for an answer, but none came. “The silence tells me you’ve got frag all of a connection in your processor, so I’ll tell you, you tiny tot slagger.” Behind him Kup snorted. “Normal _working_ bots are going to lunch, that’s what we’re here doing isn’t it?” he waved a claw around and a few of the other bots snickered louder and covered their faces.  
  
 He went on. “Why yes Whirl, that is what mecha do at noon.  They go and get lunch, or they go and nap, or they are busy getting _shot_ at!” He let his voice raised and readied to stand from his bench.  Kup hummed low in his chest and he stayed seated.  
  
 The mecha shrank slightly, but they kept their shoulders square. “Y-Yeah but if… if you have him at your beck and call then he should skip his lunch just to come see you!” there was honest fear in the mecha’s voice.  
  
 “I’m not going to cut his lunch break short, but I will call him around six when he gets off shift.  Do you want to stick around and watch me holo call him then?” he waited for anyone to say anything, and at first they didn’t.  
  
 Then Kup spoke up. “I’ll stick around,” he said teasingly, “I’ve always wanted to meet this sweetspark of yours.”  
  
 Frag it.  _Frag_ it Kup!  
  
 “You’ve got it then, I’ll call him at six.” Whirl shrugged again and sent an urgent ping to Rung through their personal comms explaining the situation.  If he didn’t agree then Whirl was slagged.  How rude did someone have to be to spring something like this on someone?  He waited for several long kliks.  
  
 An incoming ping made him blink and he pretended to busy himself by pulling out a new gun to recalibrate.  
  
  _’I think this is a delightful idea, as long as we can play it like a scene.  Can’t wait to see you then, I trust you my love.'_  
  
Whirl was going to have a spark attack.  Rung was too perfect.


	3. Rumors

 By the time Whirl had settled down in the common room later that evening, several bots had heard about _‘Whirl’s supposed conjux,’_ and now there was a crowd surrounding him and Kup. That was pretty uncomfortable for both of them when the thing between them and the exit was a table and a room full of wreckers and Wreckers trainees, and that was putting it _mildly_. Kup had, several times, attempted to shoo a few bots off, and then started glaring at them all the closer it got to the time to make the call. He’d even apologized under his breath to Whirl and promised to make it up to him as he dug out his cygar.

 Whirl hadn’t minded too much, after all Kup wasn’t at fault for rumors spreading. He _was_ at fault for opening his big mouth, but this situation would have happened eventually no matter who opened their mouth. Better now than a day when neither of them felt good enough to deal with others at least, and they were both there to ground the other. Whirl sighed and held out his arm, dialing Rung’s personal comm line and waiting for him to pick up and show on the little holo screen he’d tossed onto the board Kup had provided. Rung would only be able to see from the camera installed on Whirl’s wrist, but the others would be able to see _him_ just fine.

 When Rung picked up, it was clear that he had cleared the apartment wall and dragged their ‘play chair’ into view. If Whirl had the proper pipes to gasp he would have, but instead he stayed as still as possible while Rung daintily sat in the chair and smiled at the camera. He’d set it up away from his arm, back on his desk from the looks of it, and he had a full body view to show off. And boy, was he _showing_ off. The sheen on his plating suggested a recent wax and buff, and what looked like a new highlight strip running down both of his legs.

 Whirl wanted to climb through the camera and pin Rung still against that chair instead of watching that gentle sway of his ankle as he smiled and gave a wave.

 Instead, he did his best to smile with the limited hardware he had. Rung smiled back even more at that, looking away for a split second before he looked back and nudged his glasses with his fingers so they were higher up.

 “Hello Whirl.” Rung’s voice broke through the silence with a warmth that Whirl had grown accustomed to. Behind him he could hear bots letting out startled breaths or confused humming in the depths of their chassi’s. “How was your day, it looks like you’re still on the job?”

 Whirl tried not to laugh, Rung knew exactly how his day had gone. He was playing this like the dutiful conjux, not even minding that he was sitting on the play chair. He’d obviously taken the toy off before getting on call, but it still thrilled Whirl to know a toy had been on that same chair only a few hours ago.

 “Hey Rung, it was normal, shooting this, blowing up that. Not as fancy as you’re used to but hey, we can’t all be high call psychologists can we?” Whirl wiggled his antenna and listened to the bitten back laughter that Rung tried to hide. “You do anything fun today without me?” Rung shook his head no and Whirl had to fight not to tremble from the utter delight at seeing Rung laugh.

 “No, just an average day.” He smiled again and shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I think someone is trying to get your attention my love, hello there.” Rung waved meekly and Whirl heard several bots in the room splutter.

 Behind his shoulder, Kup laughed and waved back when Whirl turned to see who it was.

 “Couldn’t resist,” Kup admitted as he took the cygar out of his mouth, “happy to finally meet you, Wrung was it?” Kup looked to Whirl for conformation.

 “Rung.” He made sure to stress the glyph’s, it was a thing he’d grown used to. Hardly anyone got his conjux’s name right the first try.

 “Rung, my apologies, Whirl here tells us plenty about you. Brags all the damn time, can’t ever get him to shut up.” Kup waggled his eyebrow ridges and Rung chuckled when Whirl swatted him away.

 “He’s lying, I never talk about you ever.” Whirl stage whispered. Bots around the room laughed and a tension he’d felt earlier lifted. Kup snorted and nudged him gently in the side, then looked at the wrist camera. “You’re very lucky, the both of you. You really make him happy.” Whirl didn’t know who he was referring to then, be it Rung making him happy or him making Rung, but it made his spark flutter.

 “Do you _want_ to get shot.” He muttered before he huddled the camera closer to him. Kup just laughed and leaned back, out of view and turning toward the crowd. “Sorry about him.” Whirl muttered. “My boss.”

 “Alright sparklings, you’ve had your fun, time to leave.” Kup shouted as he stood up. On the screen Rung had covered his mouth with a hand to be polite as he laughed, but when he stopped he looked right at the camera and pulled his glasses off. There were a few gasps around the room that Whirl ignored in favor of looking at those beautiful optics that softened just for Whirl.

 “Oh boy.” Kup muttered, hurrying the crowd out of the room. “Whirl, take your camera off the wall, there’s only so many bedroom optics I can see before I start flirting with people.” It was a joke obviously, but Whirl rolled his optic and flicked his camera back to his wrist.

 Rung just shifted on the chair and sighed. “When are you coming home, love?” he asked in a near whisper.

 “Soon,” Whirl said, “just have to wrap up here and put my kids to bed.” Which just meant he had to lock up any external guns and put the safety on his internal ones. “I’ll be back soon, did you have anything planned for dinner, or were you waiting for me?”

 With a shrug, Rung cleaned his glasses on a cloth he pulled from one of his compartments. “Honestly? I haven’t thought of what to eat for dinner yet, I’d forgotten about it.” The honestly made Whirl droop his antenna and attempt a stern glare.

 “Rung, we’ve talk about this. What have I told you?” He tried very hard not to use an authoritative voice.

 “Oh I know, always carry a snack. You’ll be happy to know I did today, I ate that as my lunch.” Whirl remembered the feeling of his cheek plates hurting from his smile and it almost made his spark ache. “Why don’t we cook something together when you get back?” Rung asked, now excited.

 Kup came back into the room after ushering the last few bots out and coughed. Whirl looked up and nodded.

 “Give me a second, Rung.” He mumbled.

 “Of course.” Rung sat and waited as Whirl stood, Kup stepping toward him.

 He didn’t look angry or anything, the opposite in fact. He had a half lazy smile on as he puffed his cygar, but it eased to that smirk Whirl was more familiar with.

 “Hey bub, why don’t you head out early. I’ll cover for you with the boss, oh right I am the boss,” he chuckled at his own joke, “anyway, it’s obvious you need some down time.” He waggled his eyebrow ridges again and Whirl scoffed.

 “You, going soft, how ever will we go on?” He joked back. Kup cackled and shook his head, leaving the room without another word. Whirl smiled and lifted his arm again, catching Rung’s smile. “Hey you.”

 “Hey you.” Rung said back, a sweet tease to his voice. “How does something with opal shavings sound?” Whirl churred and nodded.

 “That sounds great, I’ll be home in a few minutes. Oh, and Rung,” his lover tilted his head in question, “love you.” His blush was addictive.

 “Oh Whirl, I love you too. See you in a few.” Whirl watched as the call disconnected and forgot why he’d started the silly thing. It must have been something important, maybe to show off or prove a point, but… honestly, who cared when he had _Rung_ waiting for him at home?

\--

 In his elation, he completely missed the bots whispering false rumors about ‘Whirl’s gross fetish conjux who only wanted to be with him because of his empurata.’ If he _had_ heard them, Kup would be down several dozen trainee’s, but he _hadn’t_. He was too happy ( as happy as his coding allowed him to be ) to care about rumors that they started.

 He’d deal with those later anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to everyone, some very rude real life circumstances exploded in my face and I had to respectfully bow out until it was safe to come back in. And here I am, fists up and back in the fight. More shmoop for you.


	4. Dinner

When Whirl got to the door of their shared apartment, he waved his arm over the scanner and listened to the ping. The door slid aside after a moment and he entered with a long exhale through his fans, relaxing in the comfort of _home_. He looked up to see a happy Rung standing there with a glass of energon in one hand, ready to greet him as always. He was also wearing a slim bronze collar that Whirl knew all too well.

“Welcome home.” Rung chimed as he held up the glass and the straw flopped to the side. It shifted slower than normal straws should, so Rung had added additives he knew Whirl preferred. Seemed like Rung was going out of his way today.

“Look at you, the dutiful lover.” Whirl stepped inside and leaned forward to take a sip of the drink. The liquid was still blissfully warm and Whirl hummed as he pulled back, optic flickering toward the kitchen. “Did you pick out what you wanted to make yet?”

Rung pulled the glass closer to his chest and followed after him.

“I was thinking a warm batch of cookies-” Whirl cut him off with a clack of his claws. He turned and narrowed his optic at Rung, claw extending to lift his chin so Whirl knew the other mecha would be looking at him. This aspect of their relationship always seemed so strange and foreign to him.

“You’ve only had sweets today and you want cookies? Rung we’ve _talked_ about this,” sighing, he leaned against the counter, “you need to eat more than just sugar, it’s not healthy. Tell me what we’re going to cook today.” He used his assertive voice and kept his claw in place on Rung’s chin.

Rung shifted, head tilted against the claw before his optics cast downward in shame. “We’re going to cook something that isn’t sweets… because I need to eat more than just sugar. It’s unhealthy and you’ve told me more than once that I need to eat better.” His voice was softer than normal, ashamed.

Whirl felt a tremble rise up his spinal strut. “Do you… do you think your actions warrant a punishment? Because you’ve been pretty defiant about eating healthy lately.” Primus, getting the wording right was always so weird. Doms at clubs always sounded so stiff to him.

Rung smiled and reached out, leaning into Whirl’s claws to kiss his collar plating.

“You’re doing fine,” Rung whispered, “relax, you don’t have anyone to impress right now.” Whirl felt his body ease as he leaned down to bump his helm against Rung’s.

“Ey, stop doing my job,” he teased, “you did get pretty sassy today though. Did you enjoy showing off like that?” Rung just grinned as his fans picked up. “You did, you little shareware.” He made his voice as light and as playful as possible.

“Only for you.” Rung teased back as he pushed himself onto his tiptoes to kiss the side of Whirl’s helm. “Shall we discuss my punishment after dinner?” Whirl laughed as let Rung walk toward the counter.

“Oh, you are in _so_ much trouble after dinner.” His optic flicked as Rung stuck his glossa out and then giggled. “Ey, saw that. Adding it to your tab.” Whirl clacked his claws playfully at Rung’s legs. “Come on, let’s figure out what to make.”

\--

Dinner consisted of steamed energon crystals marinated in mercury and sprinkled with opal shavings for Rung, and a tall glass of Ultra grade for Whirl. His new ‘mouth,’ if you could even call it that, didn’t open wide enough to permit anything other than a straw, so solid crystals were out as a food choice. That never stopped him from making it for Rung of course, the mecha had been so utterly hopeless at cooking when they’d gotten together.

And then Whirl had not only had to teach Rung to cook, but himself. He’d needed to relearn his body and the frustration had nearly driven him insane. But now here he was, master chef teaching his lover. Rung had improved vastly over the years too, and now he didn’t set things on fire anymore.

They were cuddled together on the couch, Rung wrapped up in Whirl’s arms as he read them a chapter of their latest book club piece. It had started as something Rung was very into, but now it was simply something they shared. Especially since more often than not it took Whirl forever to read the glyph’s with his optic. Often times the screen would blur for him and he’d get too frustrated to finish.

But Rung loved to read aloud, so Whirl let him, it was a reward they could both bask in for remembering to eat.

When Rung finished, he switched the data pad off and hummed happily as he set it down. His hands rested on Whirl’s arms, his body as pliant as it got when he was this comfortable. Whirl wanted to coo and kiss him, but he hadn’t been able to properly kiss anyone in…

Yeah.

“Don’t get too comfortable, we’re still going to talk about your punishment.” Whirl reminded him, even as he spread his claws for the tips of Rung’s fingers to explore.

“Mmm, I know, I just couldn’t help but be comfortable around you. My lovely conjux.” Rung turned his head and kissed Whirl’s neck cables. “I love you, and I’m not simply saying that to lessen any sort of punishment I get later, I genuinely love you, and I just… wanted to say it aloud again.” Whirl could tell Rung was blushing, and were he able to he’d be blushing right along with him.

Instead he tossed his helm back so it landed on the arm of their couch and groaned.

“You are _the_ most embarrassing mecha I’ve ever met,” he said as Rung laughed, “but I love you for it. I love you so much.” When he lifted his head, Rung’s fans had kicked on. They shared a longing glance, then Rung forced himself into a sitting position.

“I was thinking we should use the chair, I mean I got it out anyway without permission.” He shrugged as he glanced across the room to the aforementioned chair.

“Yeah, you sorta did,” Whirl muttered, “you didn’t do that just for the extra punishment did you? Sometimes I think you get too gleeful about these sessions.” He narrowed his optic at Rung and the other mecha scoffed.

“No, I promise you it wasn’t my intention. It was just the only chair I knew you wouldn’t mind me getting paint on, I wasn’t entirely dry when I came home from the touch up shop.” Rung waved one hand at his legs and Whirl tried not to choke on his laughter.

“So _that’s_ why you were waving your ankle like that. Sly brat, I thought you were just showing off.” The tease in his voice made Rung smile and bite his lip.

“Well… I sort of was. For you I mean, not anyone else , I just…” Rung rubbed the back of his neck, “I wanted to show the mecha at your job that you’re more than worthy of the time and effort I put into my appearance. That you’re worthy of all of that and more.” Whirl felt his spark skip a beat.

“Flattery don’t cheapen the sentence.” He muttered before tapping Rung on the hip. “Go set up the chair and the toy, and empty out your compartments this time.” Rung bit his lip again to try and hold back a smirk. “You laugh, but cleaning up melted candy was fragging gross.” He let Rung kiss his claws and wrists before he let him up, then watched him as he puttered about their apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be chronically ill but damn it can I write some schmoop.


	5. Promise

Whirl stretched out on the berth and let a sigh escape his vents, there was nothing like a nice overload to take that murderous edge off his day. Rung sat beside him and hummed as he polished one of their play guns, a lazy buzz floating about his open field from his own overloads. He seemed content as his fingers and small polishing tools dug into the finer crooks that Whirl couldn’t reach with his claws, cleaning out oral solvents and those few drips of energon.

There was a large slash across Rung’s hip that he should be paying more attention to that had caused said energon, but routine kept him from it.

Play, tend to the toys, tend to himself, tend to Whirl. Rung had tried to make it the other way around, but Whirl found out very early on that his lover enjoyed that far too much. On some occasions Rung would come first, regardless of what he might protest. Sometimes Whirl felt he got too carried away and that Rung was too in the moment to realize his lover might have gone overboard, but those moments were few and far between. They took care of each others health and any injuries they acquired during play, those generally being minor.

Rung lifted the gun to the light and tilted it to the left, squinting without his glasses on. He picked up one of the finer coarse hair brushes and began wiggling it into a seam. Whirl looked over at him and did his impersonation of a smile.

“That’s too big to get the back of the groove, you need to use a three, not a four.” He muttered lazily.

“I’m not entirely sure where my three’s are,” Rung admitted, “the last I remember seeing them was when we were putting Ark Polaris together, but when I checked the desk it wasn’t in the kit.” After a few seconds of wiggling, Rung sighed and set the tool down on the bed. “I’ll have to swing by the shop and get a new one.”

Whirl chuckled and rolled onto his side. “Alright hot stuff, how about we compromise,” Rung hummed at him and smiled as he leaned back into Whirl’s claw, “I patch up your hip, lay you out on the bed, you get a nice long nap.” He leaned over and pressed what he hoped was something of a kiss to Rung’s shoulder. In actuality he just gently bumped his helm against him.

“And?” Rung asked as he turned and relaxed in Whirl’s arms.

“And while your asleep I go buy you a new cleaning set and a new model that we can put together once you’re up.” Whirl wiggled his antenna and Rung’s shoulders lifted in a silent laugh.

“Oh, you do drive a _hard_ bargain my love,” Rung teased as he reached up to brush his fingers over Whirl’s neck, “but I’ll accept your terms because you wore me out tonight.” There was a sly smile that made Rung’s optics sparkle, and Whirl loved it.

“Alright, you lay back and get comfortable, I’ll go get the spare nanites.” Whirl gave Rung’s uninjured hip a pat and then climbed off the berth. His partner eased back against the metal, gun still clutched in his hands as he shifted until he was comfortable. When he found the right spot he seemed to deflate into it, polishing cloth dragged out of his subspace as he wrapped it around one finger and began rubbing at the barrel.

Whirl turned away from him and entered their washracks, squinting as the automatic lights flickered on at his movements. He walked to the medicine cabinet and pulled it open, shifting a few boxes until he could carefully lift the one with the syringes up by the side.

Once it was pinched between his claws he nudged the cabinet closed and walked back, smiling at the sound of Rung’s tuneless humming. He sat at his lovers knees and held up the box before setting it down by Rung’s hip.

“Roll for me.” Rung did as he was instructed, optics never leaving the gun as he polished it. Whirl had to use both of his claws to do this next part, and with one he held the syringe over the scratch while the other claw pushed down on the plunger.

The nanite gel came out in a messy goop over the scratch that missed certain spots, and Rung flinched at the initial sting. He never said anything about it after that initial flinch though, so Whirl went right on ahead and put the syringe back in the box and used the back of his claw to spread the goop. He could instantly see the metal knit itself back together, the soft protoform slightly discolored where the paint was chipped off.

“Remind me to touch you up later.” Whirl muttered as he wiped the extra goop off on one of his turbines.

“Only if I get to do yours first my love. You’re covered in scratches from work.” Rung finally looked away from the gun and set it aside on the dresser, his gaze hovering over little knicks and dings in Whirl’s armor.

“We’ve been over how bad of an idea that is.” Whirl said as he picked up the box. “A bot that’s chrome will get it in the dome, a bot that’s matte won’t take it in the back.”

“Darling that doesn’t even rhyme.” Rung said with a tilt of his head.

“Doesn’t matter, I made it up, therefore it’s awesome.” Whirl wiggled his antenna again and felt his spark swell with delight when Rung laughed.

“Well there’s no arguing that, is there. I could give you a matte touch up, I don’t have to use anything shiny.” Rung seemed to be looking for any loophole he could.

With a sigh, Whirl stood. “Alright, how about this. You be good for the next… deca-cycle, eat every day, and I’ll let you detail me.” There was no way Rung would remember to eat every day for that long.

“And you promise that you’ll let me do this if I adhere?” Rung asked, looking skeptical.

“Cross my spark.” Whirl said as he backed into the washracks. “I’ll even take you to one of those fancier clubs you like. Not the kinky ones, the ones with all the opera… or I’ll pay for you to get in. Primus knows they wouldn’t let _me_ in.” Whirl said it all as he put the box back, and when he entered their berthroom again, Rung was frowning. “What?”

“I don’t want to go to the opera unless you’re with me.” Rung said as he cleared off the berth. “How about instead of that, you let me detail you and you take me to a high profile kink club to put me on display.”

Whirl’s optic narrowed. “That seems more a reward for me than it does for you, even if I know you love being on display.” He walked back to the berth and lifted the recharge cord.

“True, but you would get to decide what I did. My way of thanking you if I get to detail you.” Rung seemed pleased with himself, another of those coy smiles on his face.

Whirl tried not to sigh.

“Alright, I agree. But _you_ have to recharge now while I go get things to spoil you with.” He leaned over and pressed his sort of kiss to the top of Rung’s head. “Geez Glasses, who knew loving you would be so much work.” Rung’s laughter was delightful.

“Hush.” He said between his fingers as Whirl connected him to the slab. “Come home safe.”

“Always do.” Whirl picked up the gun and set it back in the dresser. Still as unloaded as the day he bought it and still as beautiful. As he walked out he wondered if Rung thought it was loaded, if he _would_ trust Whirl with a loaded gun during play.

He shook his helm and went to the stairs as the lights dimmed around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this I used the IDW version of Deca-cycle. Three weeks.


	6. Melancholy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short but it felt weird to throw it in with the next chapter so I cut it up. Also I'm so sorry this took so long I've been buried under a few things.

A cycle later after Whirl had found the perfect present for Rung, he found himself sitting on their balcony with a sigh. He listened through the open glass door as Rung hummed tunelessly as he went over his notes from work, tapping the screen occasionally and muttering something into his thumb. Whirl shook his head and directed his thrusters off the balcony, letting them catch the wind as he closed his optic. He remembered when flying was fun, not a mandate, and his spark ached. His legs hung over the railing, if you could call them legs anymore, and he watched the pad of his ped kick off the building and dangle there like a limp piece of scrap. The disconnect in his processor made him want to scream right now.

“Whirl?” Rung called out, but he sounded distracted. When Whirl looked up and glanced through the door, he saw that Rung hadn’t even looked up from his data pad.

“Yeah, Glasses?” he tried not to sigh again as he slumped against the railing and ran the tips of his claws over the grooves in the steel.

“What are you _doing_ out there darling, if you wanted to sit on the patio we have perfectly functional patio furniture.” Still he didn’t look up, busy with his work as always. Whirl smiled and rolled his optic.

“I’m just feeling a little down, Glasses, nothing for you to get your axel in a bend about. Plus it’s nice outside.” Whirl said as he lifted a claw to wave Rung away. Only of course now Rung would actually pay attention now that Whirl had mentioned it, but he’d sort of walked into that.

“Whirl, if you’re feeling upset we can always talk-” Whirl cut him off with a snap of his claws.

“I’m fine, I just want to… feel like this for a while.” He looked back out over the city skyline and revved his turbines.

Rung was quiet for a long time before he spoke up tentatively. “Would it be alright if I came outside to sit with you?” Whirl turned and noticed the lack of data pad in Rung’s hands. He nodded and scooted over, enjoying the warmth from Rung’s EM field when he walked onto the patio and sat quietly next to him. Their thighs bumped together as they stuck out over the railing.

A warm palm rested atop the back knife by his turbine and Whirl let it stay. Rung’s body pressed against his side, legs warm against his own as they stared out at the skyline together in a comfortable silence.

Right up until Rung broke it.

“Someone said something today didn’t they, when you were out buying me the new kit.” Rung frowned and pulled off his glasses, glaring at the sky. “Who was it? I’ll ruin them.” Whirl tilted his helm at the serious expression on Rung’s face and couldn’t help but laugh. Rung turned and pouted at him for a few seconds, but it was quickly replaced with a soft, loving smile.

“You’re great.” Whirl said as he bumped his helm against Rung’s shoulders.

“I only try to be great for you because you deserve that,” Rung muttered before leaning in to kiss the lower extended curve of Whirl’s face, “and I mean what I said. I will ruin this mech, just say the word.” Whirl laughed again. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” Whirl said with a wheeze, “that’s why I’m laughing. This poor crank case doesn’t even know the hell he’s _in_ for.” Whirl shook his helm again and leaned closer to Rung. “By the Five, I love you.” He let his words be a shaking whisper on the breeze and felt Rung’s hand tighten on the blade of his arm.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. “Do you want to be left along for a while longer?”

Whirl hummed, but finally nodded. “Yeah, I’ll meet you back inside.” And he tried so hard not to whine when Rung walked away from him.

\--

The table in their dining room was covered in tiny, intricately carved pieces of metal that were already detached from their wire frame when Whirl walked back into the apartment. Whirl was confused for a split second before Rung walked back in with a lopsided crate under one arm. He had on a delighted smile that was crocked because of a rust stick dangling from his corner of his mouth, but he was happy. Whirl didn’t get up from the couch, but he was very tempted just so he could bask in the delight he knew was pouring off of Rung’s field.

Instead, he watched as Rung set the box down and started organizing his paints and kits. He’d opened the new one Whirl had brought home and was setting the pieces together, mumbling to himself as he did so. Whirl couldn’t help but feel warmth in his chassi as he watched, and Rung looked up to break off the end of the rust stick and chew.

After a few seconds he bit his lower lip and grinned.

“Whirl, do you want to help me put this together?” he asked as he motioned toward the table, “I could really use your technical skills.” The way he said it was genuine, and Whirl was off the couch before he knew what to really say. He walked over to the table and looked at all the small pieces, smiling at the memories of moments like this.

“These pieces need to be filed down if they’re going to fit properly, hand me the… what do you think, four or five?” Whirl asked as he poked at the parts with the tips of his claws.

“Start with four, and if that’s not big enough we can move up.” Rung slipped a file with a four etched onto the handle out of his kit and held it out for Whirl to take. Whirl was gentle with it, scared that it might snap under his claws along with the model piece.

He sat at the offered chair and felt the warm brush of Rung’s EM field nudge against him. His conjux was a _nerd_ , Whirl loved him so much.


	7. Detailing

Rung was _too_ good at being good. Whirl was actually sort of upset about that, but not in ways that were rational. Who knows, maybe he wasn’t even upset, maybe he was just miffed about how much he was _utterly_ loosing this stupid bet thing with his conjux. Was it even a bet, or was it more a deal? Either way he’d flown right into it!

He groaned in frustration and cocked his gun, aiming around the corner at one of the light fixtures in the hallway. The light shattered when he shot it out, bits of glass and wiring trickling down to hit the floor and a few Cons.

But why was life so fragging complicated? He didn’t want a detailing! Things had been so great, why did Rung have to ruin it by being _perfect_?

“Die, Autobot scum!” Was shouted at the other end of the hall, and Whirl scowled and took a pot shot directly at their optic.

Energon spewed out across the floor as they crumpled to a heap.

“I am trying to think!” Whirl shouted. “So shut up and just let me shoot you to death like normal.” He ducked back behind the wall and huffed. Beside him, Kup raised his eyebrow plating and dug his derma into his cygar. “No, you don’t get details just because you’re awesome.” Whirl snapped as a blast round went over his helm.

“Wasn’t gonna ask for ‘em kid,” Kup muttered. The way he said it spoke volumes though, because Kup never had to ask anything out loud if he _really_ didn’t want to. He had one of those faces, the ones where people buckled under his gaze or the scrunch of his carrier like brows.

Unlike the Decepticon he just shot, he didn’t have much of a face at all anymore.

“Nice shot.” Whirl muttered.

“Pure skill.” Kup shrugged and yanked Whirl down by a turbine as a canon blaster went off over their heads. “Stupid fragging morons, I am getting’ real tired of this turbo fox and micro mouse bullscrap, hold this.” Whirl held out both arms before Kup had even finished and grunted when the other mecha dumped his gun and dug into his own subspace for a frag-grenade.

“Kup’s upset!” Whirl shouted around the corner. He heard the scramble of feet across the floor, watched a few bots dive for cover.

“Fire in the hole.” Kup pulled the pin and lobbed it around the corner and down the hall.

The screaming made Whirl feel a little better.

\--

When Whirl got home he was a _hot_ mess that wanted nothing more than a shower and a long recharge. He was still picking shattered cockpit glass out of his chassi guns as he stepped inside, and he knew he was still covered in smoke burns all across his back. At least he’d been able to watch off the energon, but a quick fly through the rain wasn’t going to wash off the rest of it.

Rung was sitting on the couch reading a datapad when Whirl walked in, and the instant he saw him he dropped the pad and scrambled to his feet.

“Hey, I’m fine.” Whirl said reassuringly even though he was letting Rung pick out chunks of glass from his seams. “You should see the other guys, what’s left of them I mean. Kup got frag happy.” Whirl chuckled and lifted his arm when Rung frowned and reached up to yank out a piece of scrap metal.

“This isn’t from a grenade, is it?” Rung asked as he held it up.

“Nah, that was all me. I tripped during clean up and landed on a Con. Stopped them from twitching at least.” Rung frowned harder at Whirl’s words. “Hey, they were shooting at us first. I know you aren’t the fondest of what I do but at least I’m being useful for once.” Slag, not the right choice of words.

Rung’s frown softened and turned it into a look of concern, his hands reaching up to cup either side of Whirl’s face. It wasn’t pity, and it wasn’t worry, but whatever it was it made Whirl tremble every time.

“I think you’re useful all the time, my love.” Rung whispered before he pushed up on his tiptoes and kissed Whirl’s cheeks. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” His hands left Whirl’s face and settled on his lovers claws. “Washracks?”

Whirl nodded and let Rung trail after him into their washracks, trying not to laugh as Rung fussed about him with a vacuum for the shattered glass. He watched Rung’s fingers dip into seams he just couldn’t reach, watched pieces of glass and scrap get tugged out and the area slathered with ointment.

Once every knick or ding was covered, Rung’s hand hesitated by Whirl’s hip. There were words that were going unspoken, questions that were obviously wanting to be voiced, but instead Rung just slid into his smile and turned toward the solvent nozzles in their shower.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it shall I? I can make us something to eat while you wash up?” Rung asked as he flipped the clasp on the shower head and pulled it down. He tugged at the cord for a moment, making sure it was flexible and wouldn’t kink, and then turned back to Whirl with another one of those smiles he wore so well.

Now was as good a time as any.

“Actually,” Whirl frowned at the shower nozzle and stretched his arms over his helm, “you’ve been following the rules, and the deca-cycle _is_ over. I think I’m due a detailing. But nothing fancy.” As much as it pained him to say that, it slipped out smooth.

Rung paused and blinked his optic shutters up at Whirl, a look of startled confusion on his face before he seemed to scramble to pull himself together. He hurried back to the wall and hooked the showerhead back in, hands tapping against his hips as he looked about. Whirl tried not to laugh when Rung rushed over to the cabinet and got on his knees to look in the back shelf.

“You alright there eyebrows?” Whirl teased as he walked toward the door, “hey keep the search up, I’m gonna replace my windshield real quick.” He gave his cockpit a pat with the edge of his claws and listened to Rung hum in reply.

Then he gasped.

“Leave the plastic on and meet me on the roof when you’re done!” Rung shouted as a bottle fell over in the bathroom. Whirl was tempted to turn around and ask, but that would be silly at this point. He shook his helm and made his way into their berthroom and unlocked their spare parts cabinet. They were running low on his cockpit glass, he’d need to make a stop at a custom’s store soon.

\--

“I need you to get in your alt mode.” Rung’s voice was laced with delight that he tried hiding as he stood on the rooftop. Whirl could tell that delight anywhere at this point, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alt mode?” He wiggled his antenna and leaned over as the wind rushed across the top of the building. He shielded Rung from someone’s thrusters as they landed and stumbled on the pad. The bot didn’t give them a second glance, just rushed inside and slammed to door to the roof shut behind them.

Whirl tried not to roll his optics. Everyone was always in such a hurry.

“Yes, Alt Mode. I want to do the initial wash with a pressure washer so I can get the grime off and wet you down, then I want to work the detergents in.” There was a teasing smile on Rung’s face that he didn’t even try to hide, and Whirl couldn’t help but laugh. He took a step back and bent forward, feeling the plating on his body shift and snap forward as he issued the command to transform.

His arms and elbows bent and flipped out to either side, small tires popping out with the added weight of his legs to keep his form upright. His sensor net lit up and the world around him turned a foggy red color, with shades of pink defining his surroundings. Slowly other colors popped up, defining his world as he listened and watched Rung fill up two buckets full of solvent before connecting the pressure washer nozzle to the outdoor hose.

Rung tested the water through the nozzle and then turned it toward Whirl’s back, focusing on the heavy soot and ash burns around the seams of his tail. Whirl tried not to wiggle any of his plating as Rung let the spray linger. He knew Whirl was ticklish, and he was either choosing to conveniently forget that or he was taking his time on purpose.

Whirl sighed and let his turbines spine lazily, flinging a few suds away from the rim of one of the buckets and onto Rung’s leg. His partner laughed and shook his legs, turning the nozzle so it soaked across the spine of Whirl’s altmode. When the spray finally soaked over his entire frame, Rung walked to the first bucket and pulled out an extendable brush. He dunked the end in the detergent solution and then lifted the brush to Whirl’s tail before scrubbing away grime and ash.

The gentle hands Whirl knew all too well worked into spots that could only be gotten as a jet, and Rung spun his wrist with the brush and worked across Whirl’s back with a comfortable hum.

Neither of them spoke as Rung’s hands settled on Whirl’s turbines, but both could feel Whirl tense. Rung waited, suds covering his arms and legs as he drew his hands back.

“Do you…” he didn’t finish, just let his words trail off as Whirl unfolded from his altmode and sat on the rooftop launch pad. He kept his helm focused on his feet, watching the bubbles drip across him in awkward rivulets.

“I just need a minute.” Whirl said, claw reaching up to clamp around the edge of his turbine. He watched the claw scratch very gently at his paint, scuffing the color but not scraping it off.

There was a time when he’d prided himself on the detail he put into his cleaning, each turbine polished and small detailed golden paint filigree around the edges against his blue. Most mecha thought it was utterly pointless since it would just get dirty again as soon as he took flight, but it was just something fun he did to make himself feel pretty.

Now he never felt pretty.

“Whirl, do you want to go inside?” Rung wasn’t touching him, and he hadn’t stepped forward, but his voice was there. His voice and his EM field were gently brushing against his body, comfort and reassurance without ever having to move.

“Nah, I’m fine.” Whirl made sure to put as much ‘drop it’ into his voice as possible. Rung just relaxed and put the extendable brush away in favor of a hand rag.

“Do you want me to continue, or would you like to wash your turbines while I get your rudders?” Rung waved the rag around and then smiled sheepishly. His awkwardness made Whirl laugh because while it was there, it was backed with firm love for the mecha Rung was caring for.

“No, you don’t have to get my _rudders_ , you can get the turbines.” He paused after saying it, putting a manual lock on the spinning blades. He’d never told Rung the amount of Decepticon fingers or faces he’d shoved into those moving blades in his highest fits, but to be fair he’d never told Kup either. The thought of Rung knowing scared him, but not as much as the thought of actually saying it out loud and admitting to a crime that made him rather happy.

He shook his helm and watched Rung scrub gentle hands over his right turbine, the rag in his hand collecting dirt and suds. Washing the blades was a bit difficult, and at one point Rung had to pick the pressure washer back up and lean over Whirl’s arm to spray directly into the bars, but soon enough both his turbine’s were covered in detergent, as was Rung.

“You know, I thought this was meant to be about giving me a _detailing_.” Whirl teased as Rung tried to brush away the bubbles dripping off his chest. “Instead you’re just using this as an excuse to play with the detergent, aren’t you?” Whirl smirked as Rung picked up the hose and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a sparkling, Whirl. I’m not playing in the bubbles.” There was a glint in his optics though, and Whirl had just enough of a warning from that smirk to dodge the spray of solvent as Rung quickly turned it toward him.

“I knew it!” Whirl cackled and reached for the cleaner of the two buckets. “If it’s a bubble war you want, it’s a bubble war you’ll _get_.” He readied to throw the contents of the bucket at Rung, watching him scream and laugh as he covered his face with his arm.

But someone lit up the runway pad lights on the roof and Whirl sighed. He set the bucket back down and walked over, shielding Rung from the oncoming gust of thrusters once again. Rung stifled his laughter, still clutching the hose as he shook his head and made sure his composure was in place. That soft smile he reserved for work was up, like a mask that Whirl always wanted to rip off because it was just so open and bleeding.

Behind him, the two fliers who had landed were transforming, continuing a conversation aloud where it had once been over comms.

“So I pull into the pad again with lunch and someone has _used_ my runway, scuffed it all to-” The first mecha was cut off by the seconds confused question.

“Is that bot an empurata, near the orange mecha?”

Could they ask questions like that any louder?

“What? No.” The first bot didn’t even bother to look, ready to dive back into their story. “So I’m fragged off about the runway right, so I head to HR and-”

“No, that’s totally an empurata bot. Look at the claws.” Whirl could feel Rung tense against his chest, smile gone now. “Hey, are you okay over there? Is this optic head giving you any trouble?” The second bot was attempting to call out to Rung, concern in their louder pitch. Whirl let his arms drop and looked away, claws clenching.

Rung leaned over Whirl’s side, hand on his hip before he set the hose down. “I can assure you that my conjux and I are completely fine.” He said with a fake smile plastered to his face.

“Oh eww.” The second bots sympathy had vanished from his voice, replaced by utter revulsion. “Yeah, never mind.” They muttered something out of Whirl’s range and he felt Rung push off his side.

“Excuse you, what did you just say?” Rung kept his voice level, but Whirl could feel the rage boiling off his tightly wound E.M. field.

“Rung.” Whirl put a firmness in his voice, claw extended to rest gently on his lovers hand. “Leave it, it doesn’t matter.” The other bots were snickering, heading inside without another word, but Rung was obviously still livid.

“It _does_ matter, Whirl,” Rung said as he wrapped his fingers around one of Whirl’s claws, “they should _never_ treat you like that. You are worth more than a million of them, and they’ll never know it because they’re ignorant and prejudice and… and oh, oh that just makes me so _upset_.” Rung huffed and Whirl tried very hard not to laugh. “Don’t you dare laugh at this, I’m serious.” Rung snapped, arms crossed and frown firmly in place. He was still holding Whirl’s claw though.

“I know you are,” Whirl couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping anyway, “but I don’t care about what they think,” that was a lie, “I care what _you_ think. And I know you love me as much as I love you, so they don‘t matter.” He reached out, face leaned forward to brush against Rung’s antenna. “Stop worrying, you still have to detail me and I still have to sit through it and grumble.”

There was that smile, that was much better.


	8. Plaything

Whirl pulled himself out of recharge the next day with a brilliant idea that almost made him laugh, one that was so silly and sweet and so very… not something he would normally do, that he knew he had to do it. This wasn’t the first time that he’d had a brilliant idea like this, it was just on the rarer side of his mind. With a lot of patience and slow movement so as not to wake his partner, Whirl slipped out from beneath Rung’s draped and sleeping form and off their recharge slab to make his conjux breakfast in bed.

Occasionally he just liked being the sappy one after all, spoiling and pampering Rung was something he was about as good at as he was shooting mecha.

And he was _very_ good at shooting mecha.

Working in their kitchen that early in the morning without the benefit of Rung’s company was a little bit of a hassle, but over the years Whirl and Rung had ordered and bought proper tools that he could actually work with to lessen the hassle. Through really his claws were fucking amazing; they could cut, dice, or mix, all Whirl had to do was remember to wash them off afterwards.

Breakfast wasn’t anything special, just a few of Rung’s favorite’s and a few of Whirl’s. Some thinly sliced overcooked energon circles, sediment rich cereal bits, chunks of titanium heavy bars, it all covered the plate neatly with their mugs of warmed energon. No Rust Sticks though, candy for breakfast really wasn’t going to cut it today. Rung needed to eat more actual food, not just sugary confectionaries. As sweet as he was, Whirl didn’t want Rung’s tubing turning into pure sugar from sugar shock.

Setting both plates on a tray, Whirl shook his nerves out and then gathered himself so he didn’t seem like a nervous wreck. He gave himself a once over in the reflective surface of their cooler and tried not to wince when he saw his face. He was still himself, Rung still loved him, that was all that mattered.

He picked up the tray and walked into their berthroom to surprise his conjux. During breakfast maybe he’d find a chance to bring up what he wanted to do to Rung at their favorite club.

\--

  
“You want to… use me as furniture? Object play?” Rung asked as he brought their dishes into the kitchen. He set everything down in their sink, letting their tiny drone dive at the mess with its normal delighted trill. Rung covered a yawn and happily refilled his energon from the despensor in the wall. Once his mug was full, he headed toward their kitchen table. He was trying to balance the cup and not spill a drop, mug in one hand and glasses in the other after he pulled them from his subspace. There was a hint of recharge still fresh around his optics, and Whirl was besotted by how cute he looked when he gingerly set the mug down and blew the steam off the top.

“Yeah, you know like… one of those ped cushions, you know the ones, you have about… oh, a dozen of them just thrown around the office.” Whirl mumbled as he plucked at the straw in his mug. “And I was hoping if I was using you as furniture I could… maybe call you those things you like?” The things he didn’t want to repeat outside of play.

“Hmm?” Rung narrowed his eyes in concentration, them widened them and laughed in surprised delight. “Oh! _Those_ things, oh yes those would be lovely in a situation like that.” Rung nodded and took a sip of his energon before affixing his glasses. “I’m also happy you’re sharing your plans with me, you really didn’t have to. I _was_ leaving this up to you as a part of our agreement, but I am _always_ happy when you run your ideas by me.” Rung’s smile was fitting.

Whirl just shrugged, feeling his systems warm. “I always want to talk things through with you, if you’re not going to enjoy it why even fragging bother trying it?” He leaned forward and sipped his energon through his straw. Knowing if Rung would enjoy himself or not was the only factor Whirl planned their sessions around most of the time, though he did remind himself that sometimes his enjoyment needed to be factored in. Then again, if Rung enjoyed himself, Whirl did too.

Rung was fun to play with, and he let Whirl take things slow at their strange, awkward pace. He was happy to guide Whirl when it was obvious his partner didn’t know what he was doing, and Whirl could never thank him enough for that.

“Well I think it’s lovely. Were you thinking tonight after I get off work… or?” Whirl nodded as Rung’s question.

“Yeah, I figure you deserve a little downtime after a long day. I mean, unless you come home and just don’t want to, then we can reschedule.” Whirl shrugged and looked over at the digital clock on their preparation block. “Speaking off, you should head out before morning traffic. Can’t have the working stuff be late.” Rung just laughed, head tossed back.

“Don’t you be late to work either Whirl, one of these days they’re going to stop taking traffic as an excuse.” Rung said before he took another sip.

\--

This particular club hadn’t seen these two in quite a while, but it’s one of the only clubs where empurata mecha aren’t treated like freaks of nature ( unless they’re into that ) or outright thrown out. Whirl still felt apprehension well up when he walked in behind Rung, the smaller mecha paying the few meager credits entrance fee and being polite as ever to any and all staff. As they walked further in, Rung stopped them to look over the equipment that was out tonight on the board. Certain areas had little orange flags next to them, still being cleaned, but a few were green and ready to use.

Rung hummed and crossed his arms, taking a step back so he had his back pressed to Whirl’s side. Whirl didn’t even look away from the doorway to the back of the room as he lifted an arm and draped it around Rung’s shoulders. The feeling of optics burning into him made Whirl turn his helm and blink once at the small couple sitting on one of the couches across the room. The smaller of the two was sitting up, their partners head in their lap as they soothed them after what must have been vigorous play.

Whirl waited for one of them to say something, or maybe make any indication that they were going to mock or whisper, but he was disappointed. After several quiet kliks, they averted their gazes and ex-vented together. Whirl could see the slow but heavy sigh rolling off of each of them, and he wondered why people always backed down from his stare.

“Darling, you’re posturing again.” Rung said as a gentle hand patted the top of his claws.

“I am not.” Whirl finally looked away and back to Rung. “I was just looking around.” He wanted to laugh at the knowing smirk on Rung’s face.

“Of course you were my dear. Anyway, they have a room free if you’d like to have an audience, no matter what you choose I’m here for your amusement.” The softness of Rung’s smile made the words seem alien on his glossa. Words that almost didn’t belong, but fit so neatly in Rung’s voice.

Whirl just nodded and the two walked to one of the green rooms, Rung doing all the talking as he addressed the security mecha standing there. He was always better at the talking aspect of dealing with people anyway, and he came off as far less threatening than Whirl did. The fact Rung could stare down a charging Decepticon and not be intimidated helped as well, not a mecha on this planet could unnerve Whirl’s conjux.

Honestly, Whirl was pretty sure that people assumed Rung was the dominant one between them, but he didn’t blame them. It was very rare to see a dominant empurata victim, most of them never feeling enough self worth to step into a roll so huge. The fact Rung trusted Whirl enough to let him hold the reigns always made his spark flutter. How had he ended up so lucky?

Looking down, Whirl trailed his optic over Rung’s shoulders and couldn’t help but feel a smile light up the glass around his face. The attention caught Rung’s optics as they took a few steps into the room, and he looked up with a bashful shrug of his shoulders.

“What? Is there something on my plating?” Rung asked, a soft huff of a laugh at the end of his question. Such a bashful sound coming from him, Whirl couldn’t help but reach down for Rung’s hand and bring it toward his face. His optic closed and he let the smallest spark dance across Rung’s fingers in the imitation kiss he was so used to, then he drew back. His subspace felt heavy all of a sudden, remembering the plans he had for tonight, and that made him smile brighter.

“Nothing but my optic,“ Rung rolled his own at Whirl, “Now, refresh my memory and refresh yours.” Whirl said with a twinge of command.

“Of course, Sir. Our safe words are as follows; Bronze means full stop, Copper means I am apprehensive and want to talk things through before or if we continue, and Silver means we may resume or continue with our play.” Rung recited as he stood at attention, though his pose was still far more relaxed than your average mecha in front of their Dom.

“Bronze, Copper, and Silver, good.” Whirl repeated. “Did you let the Dungeon Monitor know?” Whirl knew he had, he’d just not been listening.

“Yes Sir, I informed him of the words to listen out for.” Rung said, smiling despite himself.

“Did you also inform the Dungeon Monitor this was an open session for commentary and questions, but no touching? That people can approach us but they can’t lay a finger on you or me?” Whirl waited, happy with Rung’s nod.

“I did, I made sure the Dungeon Monitor would be keeping an optic out for when you were… otherwise preoccupied.” Behind Rung, a few people were looking over and accessing them both. Whirl blurred them from his vision so he could focus on the only important thing in the room.

His lovely conjux.

“When you feel comfortable beginning our play, Sir,” Rung said as he shifted his weight, “I will clean the equipment of your choosing and stand by its side until you are satisfied.”

Whirl smiled and gave a single, sharp nod before he walked over to an open Spanking bench and prodded at the cushion padding the knee supports. There were well stuffed, though the mesh over them might be aged a little too thin, but for now it would do. He turned, seeing Rung trailing after him with the sweetest kind of expectance.

“Before you start cleaning this thing up, put your collar on would you? Once it’s on we can start, but you look so bare without it right now, I’m not a huge fan.” Whirl tapped at his own neck cables and searched about the room for an unoccupied chair.

Rung couldn’t help but smile as he reached into his subspace and pulled out the collar in question. It wasn’t anything gaudy or expensive, just a locked golden neck piece inlaid with mesh and studded with a simple clasp that even Whirl’s claws could undo.

The metal looked nice on him, complimenting his colors and bringing out the glow behind his optics and his spark chamber. Whirl was always so proud to see Rung wear it out. Even if it was just to a club or simply around the house.

Whirl waved at the bench for Rung to begin and then dragged one of the plusher chairs over to sit behind it, just out of Rung’s line of sight.

Watching Rung clean the bench was unnecessary, all club equipment got cleaned after uses, but it was part of their routine. Rung would scrub the surface down before use, present it to Whirl, and after play Whirl would clean the surface and let Rung rest in the plush chair he always dragged over.

They had it down to an art at this point. An art they were so very in love with.

After a few minutes of scrubbing, Rung emptied his subspaced cleaners beside the bench and wiped it down with a towel. Once he was sure everything was dry, he turned and stood behind his cleaners, presenting the bench for Whirl’s inspection. Whirl stood, taking the few steps forward he needed to lower himself to the benches height. It was spotless of course, and Whirl was again swept with a rush of pride.

“Is this sufficient, Sir?” Rung asked when Whirl leaned back.

“Yeah, it’ll do, drone. The knee bracing isn’t too good though, I don’t want you getting scuffmarks unless _I_ put them there.” Whirl narrowed his optic for show and then shrugged as he reached into his subspace. “Good thing I always bring extra padding.” He dropped them onto the bench and crossed his arms, waiting as Rung hurriedly strapped the covers over the knee braces.

Once they were both tight and readily secure, Whirl nodded.

“Kneel on the braces and present yourself to the audience, give me some light to see by like a good little lamp.” Whirl instructed as he knelt down to pluck the restraints with his claws until he could grasp the metal properly.

Rung, to his credit, did as he was told, using the chest section of the bench to keep himself steady while Whirl snapped the morphing cuffs onto Rung’s calves and ankles. Once he was properly secure, Whirl stood up to look at the crowd that had formed to see what manner of show this was.

They were like hawks, circling and soaking up every inch of Rung as he undid his chest plate and barred his spark core. There were a few murmurs here and there, a few comments directed either at Rung or at their partners in shock. He seemed to ignore them in favor of waiting for Whirl’s next move.

Happy to comply, Whirl pulled a length of wound up rope from his subspace and began tying it around Rung’s chest, basking I the warm flutter of Rung’s spark as he did so. He looped it under both of Rung’ side chest panels to start, making interesting knots along the way as he weaved the rope around Rung’s frame. Once is was looped properly, he let the braid dangle at the ends of Rung’s wrists before he pulled out a short spreader cuff.

“Arms up.” Rung complied and lifted his arms, fingers spread toward the ceiling as Whirl slid the short bar between his wrists and cuffed them at each end. The ropes stretched and pulled as Whirl wound them around Rung’s arms and tied them off to the cuffs.

Whirl put a claw on Rung’s belly, the other giving the spreader bar a gentle tug to make sure it was secure. When nothing moved, he smiled and looked out to the crowd. There were plenty of whispers now, voices respectful and low.

“Would you look at that,” Whirl let his voice carry as he leaned in closer, “a whole group of mecha looking at my functionless toy all dolled up. Does it bother you?” He waited, but Rung didn’t reply. He didn’t even flinch. “Oh I get it, you’re getting a nice charge out of this, being quiet furniture like a good little drone should.” He let himself laugh as his claw slid upward. “Cover up, you’re being filthy.”

The loud snap of Rung’s spark cover closing nearly echoed in the room. Rung muttered a quick ‘Anything you ask of me,’ before leaning into the touch at his chest.

“Easy,” Whirl pulled his claw back and held it away from Rung’s chassi, “not yet.” There was a soft tremble that Whirl could feel through the spreader bar, and he couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his spark. He had taken away what control Rung might have had over his limbs, leaving him with the bare bones of verbal communication.

Now, it was true that they could always open a secure comm link, but Whirl wanted to Plug in later and figured something like that could wait for the intimacy of their cables.

“How do you feel?” Whirl asked, “submitting everything you are over to me. Giving yourself over to someone like me. Does it make you hot to be treated like this, like the functionless drone you are? To have someone who was stripped of his caste have full control over you? Someone born in such a high class being treated like a table and a lamp.” He tugged the spreader bar higher and Rung closed his eyes as his fans groaned to life.

He was trembling harder, a small hitch in his vents this time as he clenched his fists before releasing them. Rung looked up at Whirl and licked his lips, then swallowed hard.

“Sir, I know a drone has no right to ask favors, but may I have my glasses removed?” Rung whispered it, almost as if he was afraid to speak for fear of rattling apart.

“Only if you tell me why you wanna take ‘em off.” Whirl said, straightening his back.

“I… am worried they might become a distraction, to myself or to the others watching, but I also wish to have them removed to ease the magnetic pressure ache the rims are causing me.” Rung said, lifting his chin for Whirl to inspect.

Reaching out, Whirl tilted Rung’s head this way and that before plucking the glasses off his face. They de-magnetized with a short tickle of electricity and Whirl quickly placed them into his subspace. There they would be safe, no way for them to get scratched up or lost.

Once they were gone, Whirl set his claw on Rung’s chest again. “I’m gonna lay you facedown, I want you to use me as your support since your weight is gonna be off balance, okay?” The last word was whispered as Whirl leaned in, a gentle electrical ‘kiss’ pressed to Rung’s forehead.

“I trust you with my very spark.” Rung said in a near croon, letting his weight rest against Whirl’s claw. That made Whirl’s sparks flutter as he lowered his partner down to the base of the bench, letting the upholstery press into Rung’s chest plates. Stepping to the side, Whirl lowered Rung’s arms at the same time, only he kept them above Rung’s helm and hooked them to the top of the bench with the offered clamps.

“Comfortable?” Whirl asked, a claw running up Rung’s back before tapping at the base of his neck. “Open this and give me your cable.”

There was a slight pause, then Rung shifted once and nodded. “Yes Sir, I am comfortable to lay here as you see fit.” Whirl hummed his approval and watched the panel pop open. The cable in question uncoiled and Whirl hooked it up to one of his spare extenders, then went to sit in the chair behind his partner. He lifted his legs to rest on the back of Rung’s thighs and then gave the extender a slight tug as he popped the end into his own cable at the back of his shoulders. He pulled out a data pad and flipped it on as a surge of information trickled in, opening a report he’d ‘neglected’ to file with Kup a few days prior.

“Still comfortable down there, little drone?” Whirl asked absently.

“Yes Sir.” There was a soft laugh in Rung’s voice that made Whirl’s optic brighten with his best attempt at a smile. He looked back at the pad and began tapping out a vague and flowery summery of what had happened during a particular raid with Kup. He took his time, and not just because typing with his claws was frustrating, but because it made him seem _busy_.

As time passed, he could feel the tension build in the cord between them, then ease as the codes and data was slipped passed his firewall as he threw a quick inquiry ping at Rung. He asked for a systems check and a comfort level every ten kliks, and after a few seconds an answering data package slid up onto his HUD.

Everything seemed to be going in order, and a warm rush of love flooded in behind the packets. Whirl closed his optic briefly, enjoying the feeling of affection that was trickling in through the connection. If they were alone and closer they could feel a purer emotion, direct connections being in place instead of the damp feeling of a laggy code shared between a longer distance.

Whirl sighed as he paused to glare at his datapad, and a skinny little mecha caught his eye as they edged closer with a tray. They were brightly colored and collared with something thick and anodized, their optics glued to the tray save for the few split seconds when they would glance up hoping to be noticed. The stranger mecha stayed a good distance away, but it was obvious he was waiting for permission to approach. Lifting a claw, Whirl crooked his top digit impassively to beckon the little one closer.

The relief in their optics was almost too much, Whirl had to fight not to laugh as they bowed a good arms length away, tray never dipping lower than their spark.

“My master wishes to raise the highest of compliments to your furniture, good Sire. She purchased this cube of high grade as a gift for you, and a decanter of polish for your… table.” The little one never met Whirl’s optic as he set the items on the tray from his subspace. “Master doesn’t mind if you dismiss me without taking the gifts, she says as long as I was able to deliver her praise then I would be rewarded.”

Oh, now that was _precious_.

This mecha was so nervous and obviously new to this, and Whirl knew how he felt on an intimate level. Sometimes he _still_ felt like that. _Most_ of the time he still felt like that.

There was an inquiring ping from Rung, who arched slightly to ease any unwanted pressure the position might be causing him. Whirl glanced his way and relaxed in the chair.

“Thanks, just leave it on the table.” Whirl waved at Rung’s back. “And you better not spill a drop, understood?” He leaned forward, directing the question more at Rung than the stranger. It was never good to address someone else’s sub like that unless you’d asked permission first or talked to their Dom about it, and Whirl wasn’t in the mood for a fight tonight. “Just don’t touch my drone and we’re fine.”

He leaned back into the plush of the chair and lifted the datapad, dismissing the other mecha without checking to see if he was careful with how he set the containers down. A typo caught his attention and he debated fixing it just because it would make Kup smile that he tried, or making it worse just to make Kup laugh. Either way he knew it would be edited off by Perceptor in one of his fits.

A small tremble trailed down Rung’s thigh and Whirl glanced over the top of the datapad. The glowing cube of high grade had been set on a coaster, as had the decanter of polish, only the polish had been chilled and the condensation was pooling in the bottom of the coaster. Not long until it spilled over and trickled down Rung’s back.

Whirl pinged his comm line with Rung and felt the warm presence of his lover in his systems.

 _‘Hey, this is cold polish, you wanna to play with temps tonight, or nah?’_ Whirl asked.

Rung’s response was delivered after a tremble. _‘Honestly, I’d rather not tonight. Is it alright if we save if for another play time my love?’_

 _‘Hey, if you don’t wanna do something, I won’t let it passed me.’_ Whirl stated as he set the datapad on the arm of the chair and stood up. He coiled the extender cord between them around one of his arms and walked toward Rung’s back. ‘ _You still Silver?_ ’

‘ _So_ very _Silver_.’ Rung sent back as he sighed. Whirl lifted the decanter of polish off his back and set the coaster on the floor near the feet of the bench. He made a show of examining the polish and dipping the tip of one claw in, lifted it and smearing it on his hip after running a quick analysis of it with his optic.

Some kind of high performance mixture, nothing like he knew being a flight mecha. Rung would know more about it, so he set the decanter next to the coaster in Rung’s line of sight as a reminder. He picked up the High Grade next and went to sit back down in his chair and finish his report.

There was some kind of fruity additive in the High Grade when he tasted it, not his kind of drink really, but who was he to pass up a free charge?

Staring at the datapad made him decide to ruin the typo and add in a quirky aside, he didn’t feel like turning in a serious report. If Kup came back to him asking for one he’d have it at the ready, but so far that had never been a thing Kup had pressed for.

He was pretty sure his friend went back over everyone’s reports before he let Perceptor have at then. Primus knew that mecha had a _thing_ for proper grammar.

An hour or so had passed and Whirl had gotten so engrossed with making the report an absolute joke that he was startled by Rung’s incoming comm.

‘ _Copper_.’ The word was tentative and strained, and Whirl tossed his feet off the side of Rung’s legs and could feel the heavy sigh through their connection.

“Talk to me.” Whirl said, ready to dive off the chair and unlock his partner at a moments notice.

“I… seem to have a leg cramp Sir, normally I wouldn’t be bothering you over something so trivial but…” Rung’s voice was almost ashamed.

It wasn’t really a secret that his partner was old and creaky, but Whirl knew Rung never wanted to actively admit it. Certain cramps could lead to lock up at Rung’s age, so Whirl made quick work to stand up and tap away the restrictions on Rung’s legs and arms. He unplugged their cable connection and felt the tremble through Rung’s frame of continued strain.

“Do you need help sitting up?” Whirl asked as he unlocked the spreader that separated Rung’s hands.

“Yes, I believe that would be very beneficial.” Rung muttered. Whirl wasted no time in scooping him up and sitting him properly on the bench. He cut the ropes with his claws and sat beside Rung on the bench, watching his lover as he rubbed at his knees and wrists.

“Do you want some of the high grade?” Whirl asked, claw gentle on Rung’s back, “and do you want to call it a night? I know you’re hurting…” he let his words trail off as Rung looked up to smile at him.

“I’m still Silver, I just needed to move about for a bit, I don’t think that position is good for me anymore.” Rung said with a frown. “I’ll make a note of it for next time.” Whirl nodded and saw the Dungeon Monitor step into the room, raising an optic ridge in question.

A silent call of ‘Do you need assistance’ mixed with ‘Do I need to intervene.’

Whirl shook his helm no and leaned closer to Rung, another gentle electrical kiss pressed to his helm. Rung looked up, surprised but delighted as he leaned over to return the kiss and relax into Whirl’s offered arm.

There, see, a safe and happy couple.

The Dungeon Monitor simply nodded out of the corner of Whirl’s optic and stepped back to lean against the door frame once more. Diligent and steadfast, as he should be.

They sat together for a while as Rung worked out his tense lines with shaking fingers, occasionally letting Whirl reach over to pluck at the cords in his neck or wiggle the tips of his claws into any of the plating that looked like it might be overlapping uncomfortably. There was always a soft intake of vents when Whirl managed to dig a claw tip in, and if the plating popped up Rung’s optics would flutter shut in relief as he’d let out a low, greatful moan.

Whirl pulled his arm back slowly, watching the shudder ripple through Rung and settle at his feet.

 _‘Hey… can we plug in again? Properly this time I mean, no extender.’_ He asked in a whisper over the comm line.

Rung looked up, optics dim as he nodded and reached for his cable once again. His hand shook slightly as he extracted the connector, Whirl reaching for his own and offering it to Rung so he could plug them in with his fingers.

Trusting someone with a Processor Cable was a sign of utmost devotion, one Whirl and Rung had come a long way to achieve. In the beginning they’d simply stuck to Spark Cables, feeding their overloads through tactile touch and feedback off their racing sparks. With Processor Cables things were a little different, the cables themselves being connected directly into the Processor for instant feedback and faster downloads. The feedback itself was always felt more intensely because they were directed into the pleasure cores of the mech’s processor.

Every hook up left a little bit of charge crawling across someone’s plating, even if it was a tame one not meant for overload.

Rung was careful as he hooked each cord together and twisted them, feeling the connectors lock in place and surge to life. A warm touch of electrical charge flowed from the joint cables, spreading down the wires and into Whirl’s core. He felt the waves of Rung’s desire and happiness wash over him, lapping at his mind with slow intensity.

He happily sent back his own love and devotion for that smile that Rung flashed him, watching as his lover arched into the feeling of Whirl’s delight. He reached out, claw on Rung’s chest and back as he kept him from pitching forward in the wash of charge.

As he watched Rung tremble, he remembered a time when he’d had hands and had dug his fingers deep into Rung’s cables, the slim mech having straddled his lap at the time and happily come undone under his dexterous fingers.

Rung laughed at the shared thought, and Whirl felt embarrassed for having shared it for a dew moments. While it was one of his more favorite times to remember, it always felt bittersweet. The sour note at the end didn’t seem to bother Rung as he slowly stood, forcing motion into his legs before he turned and straddled Whirl’s legs.

“Is this alright, Sir?” Rung asked with a teasing smile, and Whirl couldn’t help but laugh as he wrapped both his arms around him and let his delight slip into Rung’s field and cable. Rung arched again, the influx of data and emotion building his charge quick and sharp. As if Whirl was pressing a pinpoint button of desire and lust just by loving him as much as he did.

Which… wasn’t actually wrong.

Sure, Whirl’s charge was running, but Rung’s was high and near tipping. Whirl might not have been the best Dom, or the best lover, but all the millions of years he’d been with Rung had taught him just the buttons to push to ease Rung over the edge. Dragging his lover to overload was always so perfect to watch, and even if he _didn’t_ overload after Rung it always felt like it simply because of the warm feedback he always got.

“I love you.” Whirl whispered, leaning forward to tuck his chin on top of Rung’s helm. “Have I told you that today?”

Rung chuckled, his hands scrambling as he caught the edge of Whirl’s turbine’s to keep himself steady.

“I love you too, but… I thought we were in a scene.” Rung whispered back, no real concern in his voice.

“Give me a sec, I just want to bask in the cuteness that is you.” Whirl teased as he hugged Rung closer. That made his conjux laugh, a beautiful sound that filled Whirl’s spark with pure warmth.

“If you say so, _Sir_.” There was nothing but happiness in Rung’s voice, and Whirl could feel the heat of charge swirling in Rung’s chest behind his plating.

“Hey, don’t you sass me. That’s a punishable offense, and you were so good to get here, followed all the rules and everything.” Even though it was a tease, Whirl made sure to use his serious voice. So serious, he wasn’t laughing at all, not even a small chuckle.

“Would punishing me be so bad?” Rung asked, pulling back but staying in Whirl’s arms. The mild cockiness was enough to make Whirl roll his optic and force and jolt of heavy charge through their cables, pushing a secondary wave with his EM Field and Spark heat.

He made sure it was enough of a push that the high charge flowing through Rung’s body slipped overboard and threw him into a surprise overload.

Rung’s entire body tensed and he cried out, electrical static crackling across his plating and around his eyes as his fingers gripped tightly around Whirl’s turbine’s. Those sleek thighs lifted off of Whirl’s for a few seconds, Rung’s back pressed into the firm grip of Whirl’s arms as he held him steady. His fans kicked on loudly as Rung shook and moaned with the afterglow of his spent charge.

Whirl had to fight his own tremble, systems pinging him that a minor overload had trickled through, but nothing the likes of what Rung had felt. Whirl hummed, his optic closing as he very carefully drew Rung closer to nuzzle at his neck.

He knew all around them people had paused what they were doing to stare, even if only for a few seconds, but Whirl honestly didn’t care. All he cared about was the slow release of Rung’s fingers on his turbines and the tender pressure they inflicted as he slide them up Whirl’s arms. He cared about that warm rumble of whatever engine was in Rung’s chest purring against his own.

The press of Rung’s chest was enough to stall his vents momentarily, the warm thrum of Rung’s spark heating the metal over his spark chamber easing Whirl down from the trickles of charge making his turbines give one weak spin. Rung was limp and content, no doubt with shut optics as he let himself rest every part of himself against Whirl.

“That…” Rung muttered after several long minutes, “was entirely dubious of you.” His voice was slurred, contentment pouring off his field.

“Duh.” Whirl couldn’t help his smile as he slowly eased back and repositioned his hands to scoop Rung up in his arms. “Alright big mech, to the fancy chair with you.” Rung laughed, his face buried in Whirl’s neck cables as he kissed and nuzzled them. The warmth between their bond and cable connection dulled when Rung unhooked them, but Whirl didn’t mind.

Happily, Rung didn’t fight being set in the chair and sprawled out, the glass of high grade from earlier being slipped into his fingers. Whirl knelt there in front of the chair, happy to watch the aftershocks trickle into warm little trembles as Rung used both his hands to lift the high grade to his mouth and sip.

From his spot, Whirl tilted his helm, watching as Rung slowly pulled his composure back and righted himself. His recovery time was always slow, but Whirl never cared, it just gave him the time he needed to admire his lover.

Slowly, Rung was able to sit up and offer a kind, besotted smile to Whirl that spoke volumes of love that Whirl would happily proof read.

“Hey, you think we’re good to go home for the night? I kinda wanna curl up around you on a recharge slab and keep you all to myself. I think I’m tired of people staring at my lovely, functionless drone.” Whirl couldn’t help but smile at the small arch Rung exhibited at his words. “Are you alright with that, or do you still have excess energy to burn off?” Whirl shot a glance at the bench, then at the doorway. “We could get something else to play with if you really want to, but I’m letting you decide. You’ve earned it tonight, that was what… two hours?.”

The way Rung hummed at him was enough of an answer. “I think tonight was perfectly successful, and I think our audience was nullified. Let’s go home, my love.”

Whirl nodded, pushing himself up. “Alright, you rest up and I’ll take care of the mess.”

\--

Rung lay sprawled out across the berth once they got home, stretching the last of his kinks out as Whirl hummed and wound a cloth around his claws. The decanter of polish they’d been gifted was definitely high class, and all of Rung’s attempts to give the gift back and been rebutted by the little mini-bot femme once they’d tracked her down. She had firmly informed them both that her favorite thing about coming to the club was getting ridiculously expensive gifts to give to the mecha who caught her interest.

Whirl had tried so hard not to laugh when Rung had looked back at him, helpless and resigned as they gave up and decided to take the polish home. Now Whirl was working it over Rung’s back, paying him back for the detailing he’d been given the other day with a lazy rub down.

“I can honestly say that was delightful, if not new.” Rung muttered, arms curling under his chin. “It was very interesting to see people’s peds as they walked up and try to place a face with their voices.” Chuckling, Whirl leaned forward and nuzzled the side of his helm against Rung’s neck.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, but tell me sooner next time when you start hurting, okay?” Whirl chided him softly with a kiss, and Rung hummed in acknowledgement.

“I apologize for that, I think I got caught up in the processor space and didn’t realize I was in pain until I did a system check to send to you.” Rung turned his helm and kissed Whirl’s faceplates.

“I’m glad we started doing that.” Whirl chirred at him and pulled back, focus back on the rag and the polish he dipped it into. “Thank you for agreeing to try that with me, by the way. It was… different.” Whirl shrugged.

Rung shifted and turned his helm so he could see Whirl behind him. “You want to stick to knife play next time?” Rung asked with a smirk.

“I tried to do something tame, and it was really fun but it was also just… I kept wanting to talk to you, but I thought it might ruin the scene.” Whirl muttered.

“… may I roll over, my dear? Is the polish dry?” Rung asked. Whirl paused, lifting the rag off his plating.

“Sure, it’s fast drying.” Whirl watched as Rung was quick to flip over, his arms reaching up to settle on Whirl’s hips.

“I prefer talking to you too, though I would like to revisit this type of play. Maybe if we plan it out better it’ll be more fun.” Rung smiled as Whirl bent down and met Rung for a nuzzle. “Perhaps we can incorporate our normal play into this one, we’ll work it out.” He eased back to the bed and reached for the spare rag with one hand. “May I?” He motioned at Whirl’s chest and Whirl let out a defeated sigh.

“Yeah, why not. It’s an ‘in office’ day tomorrow anyway.” Whirl teased, trying to fight his smile as Rung chuckled and dipped his rag into the polish.

“If anyone gives you any trouble you call me and I will be down there in a split second.” Rung said, focused on rubbing a shine into Whirl’s chest near his high beams.

“Please don’t make my boss cry.” Whirl said, wanting to cross his arms and pout but knowing better. “Then again, please do. Oh, can you yell at Prowler for me, or do that not yelling thing where you just look at a mecha and tilt your head and then shake it and do those disappointed optics. Yeah, that one! We should weaponize that. Watch out Cons, years of disappointment are going to be unearthed!”

Rung laughed, his hand slipping off of Whirl’s chest as he covered his face with his arm. “I am _not_ going to go to your workplace just to psychoanalyze your co-workers, nor will I ’guilt them’ into being nicer to you. I’ve told you it doesn’t work like that, I don’t know why you always try talking me into it.” When he settled down, he moved his arm to see Whirl’s besotted smile. The soft glow from his optic, curved into a crescent, the tilt of his helm, it all oozed love.

“How did I get so lucky to have had you fall in love with me?” Whirl wondered. Rung just smiled, reaching up to place his hand on the outside of Whirl’s cheek.

“It’s not luck, I’d love you no matter what.” Rung let his thumb rub gently against one of Whirl’s antenna and Whirl shivered.

“Yeah… yeah same here.” He whispered as he shut his optic and flopped on top of Rung on the berth.

“Oh dear, no I’ve changed my mind, you’re crushing me, I retract my eternal love.” Rung teased. Whirl just laughed and peppered Rung’s face with little sparks of kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet dreams Gentle Touch, rest well in the land of the finished fics.


End file.
